
Ur 




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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



§i}np - ©Dp^riglt !f 0, 

UNITED STATES OF AMEEIDA, 



LOTUS-LIFE 



AND OTHER POEMS 






BY 



Lf CLEVELAND 



^ 




G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 



^^o^ry 



NEW YORK 
27 West Twenty-third St. 



LONDON 
24 Bedford St., Strand 



®;^e Jmckerbocket ^rfss 
1893 



l^^^wi" 






COPYRIGHT, 1893 
BY 

L. CLEVELAND 



Electrotyped, Printed and Bound by 

'Cbe IRntckerbocfeer ipress, Wicvo l^orl^ 

G. P. Putnam's Sons 



TO 
L. 

I CONSECRATE TO YOU 

IN WHOM 

THE FUTURE LIES 

THESE MEMORIALS OF DAYS THAT BLOOMED 

WHERE BLOOMS THE LOTUS-BREATH 

UPON THE NILE'S DEEP BREAST 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/lotuslifeotherpoOOclev 



CONTENTS 








LOTUS-LIFE 


PAGE 


THE LOTUS OF THE NH.E .... I 


THE ROSES OF FAYUM . 








14 


WINE OF BYBLOS . 










19 


OMEN 










24 


dAraj ZAHABI. 










27 


HER GARLAND 










37 


APOTHEOSIS . 










43 


4440 B. C. 










47 


1893 A. C. 










53 


SONGS OF THE SEA 


AND OTHER LYRICS 


ADORATION 61 


A BUBBLE . . . 








. 63 


NEPTUNE'S SECRET . 








. 64 


FLOW AND EBB 








. 67 


TO WILLIAM E. GLADSTONE 








. 69 


STARLIGHT 








. 70 


THE GOLDEN DIPPER 








■ 71 


AUTUMN .... 








. 73 


NOW 


. 








. 76 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

MAY 77 


THE SHADOW .... 








80 


IN THE SCALES 








86 


THE SOCIAL ROCKING-HORSE . 








87 


THE poet's cup . 








89 


THE HOME OF THE ROSE 








90 


THE WORD WAS GOD 








91 


THE MILKY WAY . 








92 


THE WORD SUPREME 








93 


AFTERWARDS . 








94 


THE MISSIONARY'S STORY 








95 



trbe lLotu0 ot tbe m\c. 

A S lovely as lotus at moon-dawn 

The earth's white enchantment seems 
But one infinite silence of desert, 
But one moon-glowing desert of dreams. 

Rocked slow on old Nile's deep pulses, 

Love»Lily is stirred by the tide 
That was moving in cadence-sweep onward 

To merge its great heart in seas wide. 

From old Tropic grave, from aloneness 
In measureless fountains of sun 

The Nile-god arose, now approacheth 
The moon-sparkle beckoning him on, — 

And delays now where Majesty moveth 
With pomp of chariots' tread-crash 

Through resounding gateways of Karnak^ — 
*' Rameses-Mer-Amon ! God-sun-flash ! " 
I 



LOTUS-LIFE. 



The shont rolls — the earth trembles— Look !• 
Look !— 

The myriads surge forward to gaze 
At the long glittering line that is passing — 

I^assing on through the tinged twilight ways 

Starred with Lotus, whose full fire's crimson- 
Orient lips lifted up, up — and up — 

Claim and crown giant columns of Karnak, 
And all Heaven may bend to the Cup 

Where the Wine for a god swirls forever, 

The Wine of the Ideal, the Power 
That only old Egypt could vintage 

From the Form a god rose from one hour,— 

The Ideal that rose slowly in vision 

Before gaze of the artist divine, — 
Lotus-entrance for gods at the portals 

To Greece — Pharaoh's Art for all Time. 

The day dies. The chant of the Priesthood 
Fades slow on the blue incensed air ; 

But alone on the Desert's aloneness 
One Form still outwatcheth the star, — 



THE LOTUS OF THE NILE. 



To the Poet — to Pentallr comes the hour 
When the spirit's veil thins before God 

The ' Veil of the All,' the One Only,— 
" The God in me burns upward to God 

** Who reaches from fleshhood that anchors 

Its being in depths of Divine, 
Dark, with star-glances of Godhood 

Flashing up to the Timeless in Time, 

* * Deific life now — God in human — 

Not revealed beyond Karnak's veil-mist, 

Nor in thunder-flash-echoes of Pharaohs, 
But in thought's vast upliftings, star-mist 

** Whence the glory of suns breaks in vision ! — 
Beyond ! Flash-edge of the ' Veil of the All '— • 

God ! meteor-rim of Thy radiance, 

Thy thought's Timeless tread— whose orbit, the 
*A11.' 

" The star-circles' rhythmical infinite 

Is a chant where Divinity burns 
To pour outward the pulse of the Spirit, 

God's Poem. The earth sweeps and turns 



LOTUS-LIFE. 



" And adds movement and minor of music, 

The full diapason. The ear 
Of the Poet alone hears the concord ; 

His thought moves with the pace of the sphere— 

'* A rhythm — a music— a burning — 
He interprets to men God's abyss, — 

For the Seer, the High-Priest of Creation 
Unveils mysteries of pain and of bliss." 

The Desert's hush deepens — a love-calm — 
The Nile moveth on — ah, what gleam ? 

A bubble's glance, glowing at moon-dawn ? 

What enchantment ? what love ? or what Dream ? 

A star-spark from the moon's deep-lit cauldron ? 

White fire floating over the rim. 
As, passion-pale, the Queen-glory ascendeth 

Moving upward to magnet of Heaven ? 

Or gem that has bloomed for the Banquet 
Of Egypt's great Queen ? when 'mid whirl 

Of the wild-flashing foam, tint of goblet. 
Lull of music, drops downward the pearl 



THE LOTUS OF THE NILE. 



Tear-drop of the deep — melting slowly 
In bitterness, sorrow — then tossed up 

With false laugh to false lips of the Queen 
Drinking Egypt's death-doom in the Cup ?~ 

Or lily of god-tint, unfolding 

Love-breath on my breast's tropic tides, 
Rim of bloom-light in low hush of moonbeam, 

Snow-dawn where the Ideal abides 

Sought in silences' star-dip o'er deserts, 

Gaunt majesty's home, th' abode 
Of lone acres' solitude wind-swept 

By no breath opening lattice to love ; 

Or sweet soul of Isis descended 
From Sothis, and bearing its light 

To part the dim path up the River 
To one Temple's Gateway to-night, 

Yearning e'en mid star-whirl of full aureole 
For One, only, Who rests near old Nile, 

For the mystery of Egypt's divineness — 
Holy Island of Philse — the Isle 



LOTUS-LIFE, 



Where the sunset and moon-glow are mated, 

Enchantment ineffable, deep 
As death-sleep of Osiris, Spouse of Isis, — 

Can she waken him now ? Dare she weep ? 

A desert-deep hush leans o'er Philae, 

The Star watching One Tomb shivers, — -hears 
Through the mirage of mystery One voice ring 

Across mists of the millions of years : — 

** Come to me, lord of my being ! 

Thou Spouse of my spirit's sole love, 
Come to me, God of my bosom ! 

My soul is thine own soul's abode. 

" Come to me ! Mine eyes seek thee only, — 
Come with haste, come with haste to thy love ! 

Gods and men turn their faces towards thee, 
They weep — but divine not my love. 

** Come to me ^. None else hath loved thee, 
None else have known thee, save I 

Thine own Isis whose spirit thou boldest 
Close locked — but one being, one sigh. 



THE LOTUS OF THE NILE. 



** We have loved with a love that was more 
Than love, —an eve, a dawn, and a noon, 

When thy lips drew my soul to thine own, lord, 
As the sea lifts to the light of the moon. 

** Come to me ! Thou once didst name me 
Thy jewel, a god-glow on thy breast 

Where the wedded rays rose with thy pulses 
A mated divineness — god-rest. 

** The moonbeams are pouring libations, — 
See ! the soul of thine Isis, from heat 

Of star-zenith, crown-glitter of Heaven 
To give herself, lord, at thy feet. 

* * Come to me ! Thy foes have fled backward 
As advancing I bring thee new life, 

No love save the love of thine Isis 
Can save thee, thy spirit's true wife. 

** Come to me ! the breath of thine Isis is power 

To awaken thy being — to engift 
With new might — a god-gift to her God — 

From Hades' dumb shadows to lift. 



LOTUS-LIFE. 



'^ Is the light that glows golden o'er Philse 
The sweet sudden glance of thine eyes 

O'er the dark of the Temple's devotion ? 
The pillars of incense that rise 

'' Rimmed now with pale glitter of moonbeam, 
Thy breath, my own Being, that swells. 

Soars and rends the dark casement where hidden 
The glory of Un-nefer dwells? 

" Come ! " — the Lotus' white fingers are trembling 
The Nile-god grasps them closer and tells 

Of the flood of his love that is mounting — 
The love of a god — lo ! it wells 

To th' uplifted lips of Love-Lily — divine ! — 

Only Egypt can give that repose, 
Swoon of love — which the flower-face hideth 

As hot fire to her bosom's pure snows. 



The moon-glow is sinking, its pale wine 

Is reaching the lips of the Sphinx 
Who drinks new-old pledge to guard mysteries, — 

The light lingers — rim-radiance — then sinks, 



THE LOTUS OF THE NILE. 



Sinks lower — the shadows creep on 

O'er the moon-whitened Ocean of sand- 
Dim Spirits of Dynasties rising 
To worship — a Pyramid band. 



Lo ! Kha'ibit * of Khuf u returning 
In the form his own genius planned, 

Gigantic grandeur of monarch 
Prostrated low on the sand. 



Silent, awful, the Shadow adoreth, — 

The low night- wind breathes — rises — sinks, 

Is it whisper of word that he pleadeth ? 
A prayer — a soul-prayer to the Sphinx ? 



The voice grows — to tell in one moment 
Of the heart's hidden ages of woe ? 

Revealing to Poets, to Sages 
The secret that no man dare know ? 



* The ancient Egyptian conceived of man as a composite 
being, consisting of six parts ; a body, '* Khat" ; a soul, 
" Ba " ; a shadow, " Kha'ibit " ; a name, '' Ren " ; an intelli- 
gence, " Khou " ; and the life, or vital principle, " Ka." 



LOTUS-LIFE. 



What is it he pleadeth ? Strong yearning 

That Isles of Aahlu cannot still ? 
The King comes to old altars of Mizraim 

Which, once, his vast glory did fill. 

The word of the Shadow ascendeth — 

Dim chant buried ages once sang 
When gods walked incarnate in Egypt 

And pseans of victory rang 

To the Face gazing out to the twilight 
Of Histories unknown, the Sun-Sphinx 

That slew Typhon ? Egypt's sun still remembers 
And records the blood-stain, ere it sinks. 

The moan deepens. To tell of the mysteries 

That lie beyond confines of death ? 
Of dim Shades where the soul will meet Judgment ? 

Of the Life, the twin-soul to this breath ? 

What ideal did the soul- travail fashion 

In the brief span of life given here ? 
What Form looms awed, silent, predestined 

By the Soul-law of Choice to appear ? 



THE LOTUS OF THE NILE. i 

The prayer stayeth — the Shadow 

Glides slowly — but slowly away 
As the moon-rim drops down the horizon, 

As night deepens, darkens, melts into Day 

Dazzling dawn-light o'er Desert and River, 

The Nile greeteth Horus, a lay 
That is Memnon of music, a sun-voice, — 

For 't is love, and 't is Lotus ! 't is Day ! 

No breath of the rose-buds of Fayum 
Those lips held up high to the Sun 

For his kiss that brings deepening radiance — 
And blush — the true life begun — 

Their dalliance detains not the Nile-god, 
Nor the toss that coquets with the light, — 

** One star-heat of heart is my Lotus-love, 
She bloomed on my breast, — ah, that night!' 



The Nile-pulses heave — it moves onward — 

A calm like the infinite dream 
Of oblation at shrine of the * Nameless ' 

Floats deep through the floating sunbeam- 



LOTUS-LIFE, 



Through the billowy light in the star-heart, 

A zenith of radiance poured 
Through the snow-bloom of love that lies hidden 

On the breast of a god — -her one lord. 



Storm-welcome of Ocean resoundeth — 
Blue mist like the vaporous cloud 

Of the slow-heaving billows of incense 
From mystical Isis' abode ; 

The unplanted solitude, fading 

Like dreams of the desert's expanse — 

Infinitude, bounded by God-shores 

Of God-being, dazzled rim 'neath His glance. 

Is that foam-mist of light that arises, 
Lucid veil that swings low before God 

Th' Eternal, the One God of Egypt 

The * Unseen ' throughout all His abode ? 

Eternity neareth — the foam-wine of Heaven 

Holds up divine sparkle ; the wine- 
Depths of the Infinite mounting, 
The draught of a rapture divine 



THE LOTUS OF THE NILE. 13 

To the lips of the Nile-god, the lips 
Of the Lotus close locked in his breast, 

They sweep outward to infinite oneness— 
To infinite raptures of rest. 

Egypt, 1892, 



14 LOTUS-LIFE. 



ITbe IRoses of ffai^um* 

r\ ROSES of Fayiim 

In lustre's love-light 
That bends from all Heaven 
To hold you to-night, 
One star-ardent, pale, on the crimsoning height,— 

The mist of your beauty 

Dissolves on the air, 
A rose-haze of sunset, 

Delirium of air. 
The mobile light loiters — Sun-foam your fare ! 

Rose heart of tinged silence, 
What veil dost thou throve 

Round the lone overwhelment 
Of dynasties, low 
On the desert's gaunt ruins, — a wine-reddened woe. 

Your chalice of crimson 
Held high in the light, 



THE ROSES OF FA YUM. 15 

Pours this red dusk's oblation, 
A last love to-night 
To dead gods of Mizraim through heaped histories' 
height. 

Rose mist of libation 

That widens and brims 
Till palm-heights drink worship 

And tremble. What thought brims 
Your wine-cup that fulls as the day dies and 
dims ? 

When Egypt led nations, 

And Athens was not ? 
Rome astir — with the savage — 
Proud Britain, mud-spot 
Above waters foam^ploughed by a Pharaoh, brain- 
hot ! 

Rose-incense-obeisance 

To sceptres a-gone, 
Thine oblation awakens. 
The dead ages dawn, 
Red heart-beats of Khufu knock strong on his 
stone. 



i6 LOTUS-LIFE. 



Deserts drink thy delirium, 

Abandon of wine ! 
The crimsoning deepens, — 
Desolation divine ! 
Voice of Nile-god, alone, answers love's mystic 
sign. 

Is it thus, thy unfolding 

On Orient light ? 
Alone, lone oblation 
To Pyramids' night. 
To gods, priesthoods, princedoms* array of mailed 
might ; 

A thought of the ages ? 

Bubbles shattered in air, 
A moment's wild iris ; — 

Night of Mizraim's despair ! — 
Marvel fading in phantom-foam ebbing in air. 

Dost dream it re-echoes 

That red thud of war ? 
When thy Thothmes' and Rameses' 
Crumbled nations afar. 
Giants crowned, lo ! thou reachest thy halo's rose- 
star. 



THE ROSES OF FA YUM, 17 

Or wild heart of yearning 

For old days divine ? 
What love's long remembrance 
A-gaze o'er the wine 
When thy burning wreathed Banquets where Caesars 
poured wine. 

Where thy petals were pulses 

On white Bosom's tide 
That rose 'neath love's crimsoning, — 
Low voice at thy side 
World-victor-voice bends where thy bloom-lips 
abide. 

Unfolding rose kiss 

Of Orient heat, 
To-night, a full boon, 
On thy lover's lips meet, 
Thy soul is ascendant, — Egypt holds that key, 
Sweet ! 

Tides of history lapse slow 

Down the doom of Nile's might, 

Tides of triumph-shout shrink 
With the cycles' step white, 



i8 LOTUS-LIFE. 

Ghost- white, o'er the rim 

Of the world's pale moonlight, 

But the lit lands of desert 

Breathe awe-hushed to-night, — 
Thou unf oldest thy bosom, 

Lo, life at its height ! 
Tides of Orient rise, rapt, 
In thy lips' rose-twilight, 
Pharaohs pass, — Csesars ? shadows. Thou! Love's 
Infinite ! 

Medinet el-FayOm, 1892. 



WINE OF BYBLOS. 19 



Mine ot J3^bl06^ 

\A/1NE of Byblos, what do I drink 

In drinking deep of thy golden spray ? 
Bubbles that wink at the beaker's rim 

With an ardour of glance from the far-away 
When the beauties of Egypt were pledged in the 

w^ine, 
A song round the banquet, — inebriate divine. 

Wine of Byblos, what do I drink 
As my lips caress thy enchanted lip . 

Is the pulse of the fragrance that swoons in the Cup 
The throb of the dance ? Gods of Egypt ! one sip 

Of a heart where the wine's fire burns, mounts, and 
whirls, 

Is worth nineteen long centuries' dozens of girls. 

Wine of Byblos, what do I drink 

As I hold up this beaker of liquefied light ? 
'T is the sunlight of Egypt, the gold-dawn of gods, 



LOTUS-LIFE, 



I 'm partaker of all their deific pulse-height 
As I drink of the wild climbing topaz-light, — 
The radiance of Ra, zenith's noon-burn flame-white. 



Wine of Byblos, were I a god 

I would give free play to conceit of my soul : 
Take obelisk of Hatasu for goblet-stem, 

Karnak carving of Lotus for drinking-bowl, — 
Throned gigantic like grand, glowing Memnon of 

Thebes, 
Drink, drink this wine-music Nile sun-ardour ne'er 
leaves. 



Wine of Byblos, thy breath dissolves 

The dark curtaining Shadows of Mizraim's grave 

night, 
I see the long grandeurs of dynasties pass — 

The war-pomp of Thothmes — Hathors Seven ! 

that sight ! 
Ere the fierce lance of light from pale Bethlehem's 

star 
Challenged world- rocked-grooved gods, whirled to 

dust in that war. 



WINE OF BYBLOS, 



Wine of Byblos, the lights are a-flame 

At the banquet where " Vicar of Ra " mounts the 

throne, 
See the rose-crowned beakers and rose-crowned 

brows ' 
The lotus' love-crimson sways slow on the dome 
That echoes to thunderous shouts of Rameses' 

names : 
** In Kadesh sole victor ! " '' Hail 1 "—the Pharaoh's 

eye flames. 

Wine of Byblos, I hear the voice 

That slowly croons round the sparkling board 
As the miniature mummy is carried along : 

" Look at this, rejoice now ! one day, the death- 
sword 
Shall cleave through thy heart, and dissolve thy 

deep life-dream. 
Sun thy heart, steep thy being in glow of love= 
gleam," 

Wine of Byblos, enchantress of breath ! 

Ah, warm nights of Egypt ! — caress divine ! 
Isis, Osiris, Hathor, — what not ? 

Are pouring out goblets of stars, bubbling wine 



LOTUS-LIFE. 



Into chalice of heaven ; they tremble at lip 
Of the deities* thirst — to poor mortals one sip ! 

Wine of Byblos, what do I drink 

As thy red life-pulses repeat at my heart, 

Hieroglyph round the beat of thy beaker's brink ? 
What meaneth this ardour in depth of thy heart ! 

The midnight deepens — I hear the low love-note — 

Snow-bosom of Lotus-breath on Nile-gleam afloat. 

Wine of Byblos, thy deepening glow 

Is the Tropic of passion — that Zone of Calms — 
Love's consummation, a swoon divine 

In the clasp and caress of my love's white arms. 
The star that falls from pale midnight's zenith of 

bliss 
Reaches envious to hold her — thus — dies, for such 
kiss ! 

Wine of Byblos, I envy no more 

The glamour of banquets, of dynasties, dance. 
Nor Hathor nor Hatasu nor Colossi of Thebes, 

Nor Ptah Sokar Osiris, who Eternity weaves, 
Nor Ra's light that on Love's zenith tidal-hours 

heaves. 
Nor luxuriance of Egypt's midnight star-glance. — 



WINE OF BYBLOS. 23 



Wine of Byblos, 't is here ! bliss thou canst not 

enhance — 
Two eyes glow uplifted where dusk splendours shine, 
Thy pulse-heave ? a white breast like a bird's pant 

on mine, 
The rim of thy beaker the lip of my love — gods ! 

that wine I— 
And I drink her full soul — one delirium divine ! 



24 LOrUS-LIFE. 



'T'HE breeze was low in Cairo 
That long, late afternoon, 
Where pomp of palm, where roses 

Held the red sunset's boon, 
Where the rapt bulbul chanted 
The kiss — one kiss — of Orient's moon. 

Lo ! o'er the desert's carmine 

The silver fulled to flood. 
Rose o'er the sands of Ocean, — 

The desert-mystery's flood, 
Pale ghost of sun-god sinking 
In storm of conflict's billowed blood ? 

Returned to wander, wander, 
To kiss each sacred Shrine 

With Mps that tremble, tremble 
At echoless Divine ; 

To fold a goddess stature, 

And find the shadov/s drink that wine. 



OMEN. 25 



My table at the window 

That claims the Orient moon, 

A bird, a little bird, flew in, — 
It fluttered round my room 

With heaving heart of sorrow 

In the warm, warm pulse of moon. 

It fluttered to my shoulder, 

And sobbed out all its pain 
In pulse and pant of yearning, — 

The beats fell thick as rain 
Falls through a wild wind's mutter 
Across the pale Western main. 

I watched the tiny nestling 

Quiet its throb and smart, 
I did not dare to pen the words 

That held and held my heart, 
Words that were warm with Orient, 
Words that would lock or loose one heart. 

My little nestling faltered — 

Then reached my outspread arm, — 
A moment, and it fluttered — 
Whither ? to what wild charm ? 



I 



26 LOTUS-LIFE. 



Gods of the Ancients, brooding 
O'er Mizraim's Vague ! what charm ? 

My little bird's new heart-beats 

Shook on its tide of breast, 
I felt my pulses tremble — 

A moment — tell the rest 
Ye winged words if ye aye can dare, — 

My little birdling 's rocked to rest, 
Drawn to its mate,— its magnet's breast. 

Cairo, 1893. 



DARA y ZA HA BI. 2 7 



t. 



/ / 







or^ p,' 



Daraj ^ababu* 



r^ECEMBER'S rains— darkening— the month's 

last half — 
The Hall is heavy with the gloom of thought — 
A Library — brimmed deep with gold dust — (some, 
half calf)— 
Volumes significant — with figures fraught. 

II. 
The last pale sun-gleam stole in hours agone 

And laid a ghostly hand along the tomes 
Where Gloucester, Macbeth — Fools await the Dawn 

For circlets — not yet round the full calf rooms. 

* The Golden Stairway. 



28 LOTUS-LIFE. 



III. 

The Stairway that unwinds, a carven dream 
Of Lotus-languors, love, of sheen, embrace, 

An Orient ardour where the Lily's gleam 

Is borne with breathless pulse, ascending face 

IV. 

To Destiny as star upon the dome 

Of tinted Hall — or Heaven ('t is all the same 
To Poet, Egyptologist, who roam 

Elysian-lands now islanded in rain) — 



This Stair-wreath that arose from radiant rain 

Of Fancy's iris-light in artist soul 
Whose thought throws rainbow-span across earth's 
pain — 

Ddraj Zahabi deals not one sun-dole. 

VI. 

The gloom 's oppressive, — breath of centuries — 
Enlivened by no sprite — nor spite— yet hark ! 

Was that the laugh of Aristophanes 

Across the length'ning noon-twilight's dark? 



DARAJ ZAHABI. 29 



VII. 

Laugh that shakes sun-fringe on my stripes and stars 
Half-mast to-day — the Poet's misery — 

Fire from Prometheus — nowhere — out — behind the 
bars 
Of grated friendship's sifted nicety. 

VIII. 

The Library's alcove, coldly labelled ** Greek, ^' 

Is suddenly aflame with brilliancies 
Where Clouds and Birds float, flit, — a flame, a freak, 

A dazzle — foam of Attic fun — and seas. 

IX. 

I will not turn to meet the awful gaze 
Prometheus rolls from pale Caucasus-fate, 

Nor where the fire-eyes of the beacon's daze 
Flash on the grim stone faces at grim gate 

X. 

Of old Mycense through enfolding dark 
Of midnight, over Atreus' palace-hush 

Where the heart leaps — in stolen passion — Hark ! 
What cry? — What tread? — Where ? — sudden 
torch-flares flush 



30 LOTUS-LIFE. 



XI. 

The breast of Clytemnestra, where the blood 

Stays, curdles, — pool more deep than Stygian 
wave 

That rolls its crimsoning vapours' lurid flood 
Round Agamemnon's exult. Zeus ! now save 

XII. 

Him if thou canst, when woman {connoisseur) 
Flings her fine *' No ! " — dust-whirl in face of gods 

Who 're blinded ? not unless I gravely err 
In some old Readings from a Book that gods 

XIII. 

Pricked deep with types for all who gravely care — 
Before the grave— to look a little close 

Before it close — the grave, I mean. (The fair 
Full volume never closes eye while Time's wave 
flows). 

XIV. 

Woman. Two syllables. Two lips. A heart 
That *s double, too ? I 'm bitter, in the gray 

And glooming slant from cold December's heart, 
Where icicles are so bright, seeming gay 



DARAJ ZAHABI. 31 

XV. 

In glitter, what a charming tint ! it shines 
Oh men (bat-blind?) with equi-radiant gleam, 

Sometimes distinguishes — for gleaming lines 

On round coin. Pshaw ! a w^oman ! — Poet's 
dream ? 

XVI. 

The Poet's dream ! whose every pagan pulse 
Throbs for the avrifn^tiov yaXa6ua 

** (S'r^^y^" alcoves hint. Confound the hint ! when 
pulse 
Of pale December's sounds threaten asthma. 

XVII. 

The suns are sumptuous on Samian vine, 
Sun-rush of song on Mitylene's height 

Where skies blush deep as Hebe's cheek divine 
At glance of the Immortals o'er the foam-wine's 
white ; 

XVIII. 

The dying day bleeds on the ^gean breast 
Heaving with mighty memories of men 

Who sailed her waters — eyes of vague unrest 
Ranging one wave-reach — lengthening to ten — 



32 LOTUS-LIFE, 



XIX. 

Troy's decade dark of years — dark as the doom 
On Sappho's sun-soul heaving in eclipse, 

The soul that sifted ecstasy, than whom 

No warmer born of woman — gods, those lips ! 

XX. 

Woman! — Greek fire fades on " crushed Levant," 
And I 'm no brighter than I was before 

I sauntered through this '* Orient'' labelled haunt, 
Begging poetic fire from door to door. 

XXI. 

Sappho denied it — star on Lesbian flood — 
Prometheus looms an awe, cross-form to crag ; 

Anacreon sips sparkle from a bud 

That blooms, a rose-lip, on his own ; the flag 

XXII. 

Marked with the *' moon of Mahomet " provokes 
To Paradise— and Peris ? — Poet's dream ? 

Yet slowly, slowly where the sun-cloud soaks 

The shades, the Orient pearl-haze grows, no 
dream ! 



DARA y ZA HA BI. 33 



XIII. 

The Orient's gold-haze scatters like the dew 
Of mirage on the desert's crimsoning dawn. 

The rim of Egypt burns beyond the blue, 
The hand of Egypt holds up wine of morn ! 

XXIV. 

A zone of light, of gold, of sifted sheen 
From Cairo's gardens to the amber sands 

That stretch, an infinite, beyond rose-gleam 
Of ripple over Philae's foam of palms. 

XXV. 

The glow is lucid as the sacred light 

Upon the Nile when godhead swept a-down 

The stream in Sacred Barque, the summit-height 
Of vision, eye to eye at Memphis town. 

XXVI. 

Pdraj Zahabi ! Nile-ascending glow. 
Along thy liquid rounds of glassy light 

The sun-god floated, up — and up — the flow 
Of sunbeams reaching Aureoles of light — 



34 LOTUS-LIFE. 



XXVII. 

— On — tell the Eagle-deified of awful gaze, 
Facing thy Flash through phantom centuries, — 

Ipsamboul's Ramessides loom, in haze 
Of halo, sun-selected mysteries : 

XXVIII. 

The Pharoah petrified. The Power that shook 
Ascending nations. Ye may curse him now 

Ye mighty, for he holds nor flail nor crook, — 
But bate your shout, there 's thunder on thai 
brow. 

XXIX. 

His hands are emptied, for 't was Egypt's wealth 
That Egypt flung, god-grandly, from hot heart 

To lands that owe their heads to Pharaohs : wealth 
Of wisdom, worship (Greece, thy Pantheon !), 
Art. 

XXX. 

Ddraj Zahabi ! God from firmament 

Thou drawest near thine awful Temple-gate 
Ddraj Zahabi I Ra omnipotent, 
Thine awful eye bends where the warders wait. 



DARAJ ZAHABI. 35 



XXXI. 

Inward thy tread sweeps, march of majesty, 
Aslant dumb shadows, arrow-gleam of gods, — 

Goal — the dark Altar — worship's ecstasy — 
Thou fallest, god prostrate at feet of gods.* 



XXXII. 

Ddraj Zahabi ! God-fed Mizraim ! 

What light leaps through this twining zone of 
Stair 
That folds, unfolds — an Orient's rhythmic whim, 

Sun-sifted Lotus-dust on heaving air ! — 



XXXIII. 

The effulgence foams in long amaze of light 

As still o'er Theban plain, gold-fleck'd it glows, 

Brims — stays — the Lotus yields unto the white 
Array of radiance that upheaving flows. 



* In the Sanctuary, four gods sit enthroned : Pthah. 
Animon-Ra, Ra, and Rameses deified. 



36 LOTUS-LIFE. 



XXXIV. 

By Him who slept in Philae ! What *s that face 
Below the unfolding trance of liquid sheen ? 

A Lotus-star of pure irradiant grace, 

A Lotus-love in eyes — the Poet's dream ! 



HER GARLAND. 37 



1bet (5atlanD* 

CHE was searching the tomes and their full tombs 

On a grim December day 
In the niche that was lettered ** Egyptian, Ass " 
(The learned add ** Syrian " thereto, ere they pass), 
Searching for mummies in Mizraim, 

And all that you haul away 
From scarabs to Scarecrows, — or Ancient Clay. 

She was fastened as firm as old Pharaoh 

In case upon case (of books), 
But I saw she was trying a Sail to Punt 
(If you want to know Where, you will have to hunt) 

With Hatshepsu, Queen, who never owned 
books 
Nor dim liter ata's niches and nooks, 
But broiled all her learning in hieroglyph hooks. 

She had dug up all manner of dynasties dim 

With a brave little workman's tools, 
They were all on board in the Voyage to Punt, 



38 LOTUS-LIFE. 



(If you want to know Who, you will have to hunt) 

And they verily looked like a set of fools 
As they stared at her Christian tools. 

There was Theban and Shepherds (assorted) and 
Tanite 
A ghost and a-ghast to the unknown coasts, 
There was Saite (selected) Bubastite and Xoite, 
(If you want to learn more, hold your head on tight 
Like the brave little Soul towards the un- 
sailed coasts) 
So brave, she deserved Egyptologists' toasts ! 

Herakleopolite stared at the Mendite. 

It certainly was not polite, 
But you see, he did not know him by sight, 
Nineteen dynasties sat 'twixt H. and Mendite, 

The brave little Soul did n't take it in, quite, 
As she shipped them a-board, with '* All Right ! " 

The Pyramids glared with a three-cornered squint 

At the brave little Worker and Co. 
As they flashed down the stream to the Ophir-ish 

dream. 
The Sphinx-face was as set as Hatshepsu- Pharaoh, 



HER GARLAND. 39 

Who, severely a-stern, stood and marshalled the 

Floe! 
But the brave little Soul trod the deck like a roe : 
** We are going to Punt, you know ! " 

The gloom deepened along the weird shadows 
The mummies looked sorry and mixed, 
Aah-hotep might have sneezed if she had n't been 
greased 
With unguents and glue. "I '11 get them 
all fixed. 
Though they certainly do look a little bit mixed " 

Sighed the brave little Worker,— '* All fixed." 

The " Voyage to Punt " sailed hard by the town 
Called Memphis, (with Mena a-board !) 

The Town where the Goddess of Love lingered 
late, 
Intoxicate sip held high her full hoard, 
The songs floated and flitted— Isis-Hathor ! 
they soared 
To the brave little Worker a-board, 

Who turned not her head in this '* Voyage to Punt," 
(Her lips trembled, warm clasp of the wind !) 



40 LOTUS-LIFE. 



"' I liave mummies to mix in dynastic fix, 
I am very much troubled about No. VI, 
My Calling to mind, Egypt's true gold to find, 
No matter what kiss left behind." 

She returned from the Voyage to Ophir and Punt 

Just at 12, when the sun took the Stair ; 
Her cheek was a-flush; — a sun-swept Fleur de Luce 
But the mummies looked blacker than Aah-hotep's 

hair, 
Mena moped like an Owl on a tree's attic stair, 
The Dynasties frowned with a horrid * ' Beware ! ' 
Queen Hatshepsu's anger a-flare ! 

There was nothing a-board from "Divine land of 
Punt " 

Of delights that had beckoned away. 
Not a panther, giraffe, nor aught good to quaff, 
Not a leopard to hunt with on any cool day, 
Only asses that punctually had all the " say," 
No glint of wild gold, only cultured essay 

Of Hatshepsu adorned in tiger-skin way. 

As I gazed at the warm flushed, sweet Lotus of face, 
(Where one tear started, held, then rolled 
down). 



HER GARLAND. 41 

I felt with wild leap one pulse of this heat 
Is worth all the elixirs in Aah-hotep brown, 
All the hieroglyphed geese on a mummified gown, 
All the Dynasties up — and then down ; 

One drop of this full, heaving passion of heart ! — 

** I will find them to-morrow, I think," 
She said, with heart bold ; *' I will find Egypt's 

gold, 
I will know what dim ancient dynasties think, 
I will lie on the measureless margin and drink 

Beyond what another can know or can 
think." 

The deep Lotus eyes sought the Garland of Stair 

"Where the Sun's heaving-heart pulsed and 
paled : 
The dream of the Orient, Ddraj Zahabi's gold, 
Lotus languors of love, ' ' I will not have failed 
If I find out the Garland that crimsoned and paled 
On the brow of the Poet gods hailed ! " 



My lotus-bud that slowly unfolds 

Its bloom of glance and banquet of lip, 



42 LOTUS-LIFE. 



Its star-heat of heart and tremblings deep, 

Its rose-blush of wine where Egypt may sip, 
Tell me, dear, of thy Garland ? Hast found it at 

morn ? 
It enfolds thee, and thrills through thy pulses, 
close, warm. 

My lotus-bud that yields to the sun 

Its gold-heart from gods, the thoughts that 
they think. 
The sheen of stupendous dynasties won ? 

On the measureless margin wilt lie ? and wilt 
drink 
With those red Lotus lips — which One, only, may 
part? 
Thou art lying on Egypt's heart \ 



London, 1891. 



APOTHEOSIS. 



Bpotbeo0t0» 

/^NE Day, ah Day supreme 

Of days that wed and wind on garland-glance 
Of hours man's breath calls *' Dream " 
(Whose trance full oft is sword-flash-sweep 
Burning — but bar — to Eden-gleam), — 
Two eyes lit sudden pathways vast 
Through thresholds closed — the Infinite ! 
Two lips brought banquet — and a god's '* At 
Last ! " 



4440 B. c. 

1893 A. C. 



45 



4440 m. a. 




A DREAM of glory is the long array of shore 
Where pillared temples loom along the ages 
hoar 
That chronicle their birthdays in flushed alphabet 
Of pride on Egypt's pylons where her mysteries 
met. 

The page of empires is recorded on this waste 

Of desert sands run through Time's hour-glass' 

wild haste ; 
England ? babe on the breast of billows' lull or 

lift, 
Handful of babbling years the Orient cycles sift ! 
* Ankh (Egyptian). 
47 



48 LOTUS- LIFE. 



The Majesty of Memphis ! named HA-KA- 
PATAH,— 

House of the Worship. One more sacred still than 
Ra 

Sun-god, dwells here to-day, Patah, world's archi- 
tect, 

The Father of the gods. He who sun-systems 
decked. 

Effulgence of His fire, the light is affluent ; glows 

And whelms Ptah's Towers to-day, whither that 
concourse flows 

Some burdened souls, believe, yea, through God- 
jubilee, 

** To Him who carved a star. He can carve help for 



Truth is but One, as Trial, through the trend of 
Time, 

This is the link that threads and shakes the ages' 
chime 

With note-swept power awakening echoes in the 
soul 

That stands on margin of Christ's Nineteen Cen- 
turies' Roll. 



444° B.C. 40 

Memphis the mighty ! Sways, six thousand cen- 
turies gone 

The Wisdom whence the world drew sustenance at 
dawn. 

Curve not thy lip, O Traveller, for at this Sun- 
gate 

Illumination streamed, all light to anticipate. 

The Pyramids of Uenephes sustain the flush 

That dyed lone level sands with Ra's soul, sun-god*s 

gush 
Of blood along a world that bates its breath to wait 
Red rim of resurrection — Horus — at dawn's gate. 

Lo ! 'neath Colossal Crimsons that o'erlook that 

Strife 
A silent land has Mena made — the '* Land of Life " : 
ANKH-TA, land where the dead of mighty Mem= 

phis rest 
'Neath tri-form ward of Pyramids, on desert's 

breast. 

Within each tomb of silence, depth on depth of 

dark, 
Alone stands the Ka-Statue, — look ! It seems to 

hark 



so LOTUS-LIFE. 



To man's demand : *' Dost shrine that mystery — 

the Spark, 
THE LIFE, in an eterne, immortal Form ? " The 

Dark 

Alone gives answer. With outstretched hands the 

Ankh 
Fastens its hieroglyph along the tomb's death-dank 
Reaching to an Eternal. The KA-BODY waits, 
Hand on the staff, to sweep through some Immortal 

Gates. 

ANKH, which the might of Egypt's glittering 

Statecraft bore, 
Throned, dominant, divine. In right hand held, 

the core 
Of Royalty. ANKH, the word-beacon to death's 

Barque, 
What pilotage to prince, to pauper, through that 

Dark? 

To-day, in this four thousandth Year before the 

Christ, 
The Sun-warmed Stream of Egypt holds ANKH- 

sign, unpriced, 



4440 B.C. 51 

Above the flow of fragrant waters, lotus-crowned, 
Whose tangled thickets' tawny bloom — a round on 
round 

Of radiance reaching up, through haze of violet 
light. 

To the dim distance down the years when, at the 
height 

Of Temple's altitude, the Lotus grasps its goal, 

And gazes down through Karnak's cloud of incense- 
roll 

On the long centuries from Seti to the hour 
When a world's worship crowns its capitals with 

power 
Of Lotus-cup holding red heart of the divine — 
A mystic Ideal ! more, that drink of a god's wine ! — 

Above the dim papyrus-groves that whisper low 
Words that the generations carve in pregnant flow 
Upon papyrus page, from Mena to the Man, 
The Word, through Whom the furrowed ages' 
thought, — worn, wan. 

Voiced its Supreme ; throned in the light that lifts 

its rose 
Over the desert where the sun-god tarries, sows 



52 LOTUS^LIFE. 



Red seeds of an Immortal ; Hope, for morning, 
stands 

In Nile-Stream the ANKH-sign, lo ! with out- 
stretched hands, 

Nilometer. It measures Life, supernal gift 

That crimsoned, mounting waves to thirsty deserts 

lift, 
Lift to parched lips that soon will beat beneath the 

kiss 
A god bestows, Nile-god, in the wild garden's bliss. 

Through centuries and seasons lapse and fall and 

flow, 
Brims the perennial Life-cup, where the Lotus blow, 
To lips of king or bondsman, burdened soul or free, 
To priesthood's thirst brooding o'er Egypt's mystery : 

Life for the nations ! Lo ! the ANKH-sign looms 

in light. 
Six thousand years agone, it towers. A mystery's 

height ? 
God ! Sign of the Incarnate seen o'er Mizraim's 

wall, 
LIFE EVERLASTING through her splendours' 

flash and fall. 



[893 ^. C. 5.:, 



1893 B.C. 




J^EAN this way ! 
That woman's bonnet in your way ? 

Conf well, never mind the squeeze- 

A great cantatrice sings to-day. 



II. 



The Church is gay ? 
The tints of Fay urn's far away 
Methinks in all this rose-parterre, 
But then — it 's Woman's first of May. 



54 LOTUS-LIFE, 



III. 

Hush— sh ! the High-Priest, 
There ! Fat. Speaks to that lengthy priest 
Whose eye rolls so. 'T will catch you, man. 
Unless you bob behind his skirt, at least. 

IV. 

Ah ! they 've gone in 
To vest for the Procession's din. 
Nay, I 'm wrong there ; its glare is great 
As 't would illumine a world's sin 



Since Eden's gate. 
Those candles' eyes appraise, and wait 
A-tiptoe. Reaching o'er the rim 
Of vacant air, and mark who 're late 

VI. 

A.t Catholic prayers. 
Look at that priest ! His jewelled wares 
Seem swept from New Jerusalem 
A-down his robe. — That ruby flares ! 



i893 A- C. 55 



VII. 



Query ? Doth bear 
The rubied Name ? like jewel rare 
On wall-girt Heaven? where Shepherds true 
Are set in blazonry of air ! 

VIII, 

Look at that face ! 
(The other side of that cloud-lace) 
Bowed in its dark 'neath choirs* shout, 
An agony fulls, in life's race. 

IX. 

Heavens ! that voice 
Mounts o'er the thundering cymbals. Joys 
And thrills its Credo to man's doubt, 
Credo in Deum. And the Voice 



That 's heard as breathes 
The Incarnatus ? Voice that grieves, 
But records for the ages' thought : 
Credo in hominum. Believes 



LOTUS-LIFE. 



XI. 

In man ! Thou, God, 
Bold with belief as fits a God, 
Dost inly trust to clay Thyself, 
Dost trust in man, — and man grows God ! 

XII. 

His destiny ? 
That trumpet-tone 's the key. 
A Deity's Triumphant mounts 
And rends the ancient mystery : 

XIII. 

*^ The Life Eterne ! " 
See how those myriad faces turn. 
As if but one impulsion's thrill 
Towards the East where God did burn 

XIV. 

Through Calvary's rock 
Where the world stayed its hand to knock 
" Is Trust slain on Golgotha's Eve ?" 
Still knocks — on the long ages' lock. 



i893 ^- C. 57 



XV. 



The dawn-streak grew 
Into the soaring of the blue, — 
And One burned there. Man's yearning filled 
To wear on earth Heaven's blood-beat, too, 

XVI. 

The Life Eterne ! 
Again those myriad faces turn 
At the Creed's close, and make the Sign 
On breast and brow. 'T is '* Ankh"-sign, learn, 

XVII. 

That Cross of '' Life," 
The ancient hieroglyph for *' Life," 
In world-old Mizraim, brooding deep 
On mysteries with all Wisdom rife. 

XVIII. 

'T was " Standard-name " 
Of Pharaohs ; pomp of the Throne's Flame 
Yielded to the significance 
Of ** Standard-name " : the great ** Ka-name " 



58 LOTUS-LIFE. 



XIX. 

Which Stood for ''Life," 
Life everlasting. Yea, the Life 
Of Pharaohs burned from Ra, Sun-God 
Slain on red rim of deserts, " Life " 

XX. 

That sank to soar. 
There 's thread of Truth through ages hoar ! 
Man's destiny, — a god doth share, 
God of the heathen, God of the Christian, more 1 



SONGS OF THE SEA, 

AND 

OTHER TYRICS. 



59 



^Dotation. 

'"THE Ocean's voice attests to all the earth, 

To every cavilling question man may frame, 
That on one dawning, God looked through dull 

mists 
That slowly broke before Creative gaze 
And spoke. One word thrilled solitude, through 

chasms 
Vast of darkness* path cleft by sharp sungleam 
Of angelic wing — the rainbow-rim of God 
Who sweeps around himself white bands of light 
That darken as they burn. 

The Shoreless Sea 
Where soft warm pulses of the Dove did brood 
With wings close pressed upon the awful Deep 
To wed the abyss — the first sweet hush of love, 
The marriage-raptures of the Infinite — 
Breathed deep beneath God's breast, uplifting rapt 
Heights of glory, — wave-thrill of countless light 
In the Creative glow : Love, Life and Day. 

6i 



62 LOTUS-LIFE. 



And still through ages heaves the Ocean's breast 
With rhythmic memories of that marriage-night 
When heart to heart God's passion clasped his 

world, — 
Enchanted Seas repeat the Voice that called, 
With thunderous echo of the dawn sublime 
When God's face was the Sun — the sole music, 

God, 
God the long light that shook across the Deep, 
God the retentive shout seas sublimate 
As up and up they hurl their harmonies, 
Prostrate adoring fall, lips blanched with awe. 
And whirl along the liquid acres' stretch 
Cloud-spray of incense-foam at feet of God. 



A BUBBLE. 63 



HTHERE was once a wonderful Mermaid 

Who lived long ages ago 
In the moon-white waters of Ocean, 
Where the shining icebergs flow ; 

And from morn till the evening's crimson 
When the tall peaks lighted their fires, 

The sea-maiden floated in beauty 
Through the revel that never tires, — 

That banquet of Sea-god and Triton, 
W^hen the blast of the breathing horn 

Summoned all the bright Nereids of Neptune 
To storm-dance and shoutings and song, — 

To embrace and to vision and beauty, 
To the light that is banquet and wine, — 

The soft light of Love that brims over 
To moisten lips lifted — divine ! 

And all that is left of the sparkle 
That played on the icebergs all day, 

Is the light of the foam-bubbles breaking 
Their hearts on the rock-strewn way. 



64 LOTUS-LIFE. 



1Reptune'0 Secret* 

\^7HAT dazzle of robe weaves the great god to- 
day 
As the silken foam- thread gleams, glances, and 
falls, 
Lifts and falls — again lifts — so debonair, gay, 
Song- whirl round the sheen of its azure walls, — 
A mermaid's crescendo of laugh that calls 
As she flashes away, from embrace of the spray. 

Neptune's hair is blowing wild on the breeze 
As he sews ; his glittering needle of light 

Laces the foam. He sighs ; his fingers seize 
The filigree dress moon-icicle white. 
He turns the hem down, — holds it up to sight ! 

And his great bosom heaves — god-wrath as mermaids 
teaze ! 

He is singing and singing — wild hoarse song ! 

Deities heard it ere Athens had birth, 
Ere Parthenon marbles mirrored his foam, 

Ere Venus was floated a foam-fay to earth ; 



NEPTUNE'S SECRET. 65 

The wild sea shakes with his vigour and mirth, 
Cloud-flecked skies listen long to the storm-bliss of 
song. 

For goddess the robe with its sapphire sheen ? 
For a gold-haired Siren whose eyes are blue 

As his own depth-azure of glance therein, 
Whose bosom is white as the foam that blew 
A bright bubble's pathway for Love, in the dew 

Of the rose-dawn's serene, — Aphrodite, Love- 
Queen ? 

Hark ! His song is mounting with wild hoarse 
leap 
As he laces again and unbinds the breast 
Of the jewels that pulsed in swoon of sleep 

When night was all radiance and rapture and 

rest, 
When Earth stole down with pale feet to his 
breast. 
And knelt to the rapt Deep, — pledging Secrets to 
keep. 

Did the god reveal them ? He chuckles apart 
With huge roar. He leans o'er the dazzle of 
dress, — 



66 LOTUS-LIFE, 



Diamonds delved from the depth of his Ocean- 
heart ? 
Or stars that he swept from the sun's excess 
Of pathway through whirling worlds the gods 
toss 
At play ? 'T is a fine Art, but taught to old Nep- 
tune's heart. 

I see him repeat the sport of the skies, 
With his hand on the rim of the azure air. 

The star-sparkles flit as the foam-breath flies 
From his wrath-lips that sentinel secrets rare ; 
And he binds the diamond-dust of the skies 

As a dripping fringe — where ? on what foam-breasts 
so fair ? 

A hint ? One moment ! the wave upmounting 
Lifts a sudden flash on the rose-foam air, 

Is it Cyprus unveiling in sunset's anointing, 

Warm, dew-lipped Immortal ? her cestus so fair 
Dropped a shell on this margin of earth and of 

air. 
And it sings the full rapture that sea-gods dare. 

Listen low, listen long to the storm-bliss of song. 

And know what gods know in the foam-tide's flow. 



FLOW AND EBB. 



3F10W and Bbb. 

"lA/HAT means this Ocean-tide that fulls to 

shore, 
Swinging impassioned towards the waiting Strand ? 
Lips pale with joy ? surf-sweep of crystal light ? 
Voices unbraiding untold melodies ? — 
Divine advancement of the great Divine, 
Wave-grandeurs greatening to Apocalypse ! 
Is man found all unworthy to hold fast 
This sapphire splendour of the Infinite 
Floated from glories of the azure Throne, — 
Veil that scarce hides th' Immortals' coming feet 
Foam-fair as divine dreaming in Love's Eden, 
That slowly, darkly ebbs the foam-tide far 
With plaint of pain, of disappointment, loss, 
Voices that sorrow through long yearning nights, 
Kisses divine that press earth's breast — but pass. 
The Strand is left in desolation pale. 
Arise, O Soul, to greater amplitudes 
Of being ! larger lands that lengthen, reach 
To God-horizons of all noble ends, — 



68 LOTUS-LIFE. 



Lands that enring the Infinite's azure light, 
Soul-life whose breath blows back th' enfolding 

Veil, 
Soul-soil that dare engraft celestial tread, 
Soul-depths that dare inclasp God-oceans, locked, 
That lift their tides to linger on thy lands. 
Enchanted ; height on height of crystal calms 
Like the lone sea, ere Time's first hour was tolled, 
That climbed to gaze on God in flood-tide's fire, 
And stood, in white amazement at that Vision, 
Repeating mists of sapphire from the light 
Surrounding in great circle God the Sea ! 



TO WILLI A M E. GLA DS TONE. 69 



;ro mtlliam IE. (Bladatone* 

February 13, 1893.* 

A S thy thought's sail, O Pilot of our seas, 
Sweeps o'er the awful Infinite of dark, 
Where factions war, and thunders roll their car, 
Where the sharp tongues leap from the lightning's 

mail, 
And the vast Void is vocal round thy sail, — 
Thy prow, O Steersman, furrows up the stars, — 
The bubbling lights for nations round thy barque. 

* Home Rule Bill. 



70 LOTUS-LIFE, 



TUIGHT-TIME in Venice. Through her mir- 
rored streets 
The gentle lap and flow of burnished wave 
That fulls beneath the moon. No sound heard, save 
The rhythmic swing of starlit tide that greets 
The curve of distance where the moon's pulse beats 
Upon the marble breast of palace woe. 
Along the depth on depth of Heaven's snow 
To-night, the star-flame shivers, flame that meets 
A burning Gaze unknown and unconceived — 
The light dips — and illumes a window, where 
The trembling vines grasp shadows, shadows 

breathed 
Along the reluctant light. Two faces, where 
The light burns deep in eyes that lift above, — 
*T is star-height — Heaven, God ! last gaze of Love. 



THE GOLDEN DIPPER. 



DUT seven stars stud the edges 

Of the Cup a god doth fill, 
But seven beads of the golden Wine 
Glance at the rim of the Cup divine 
The mystic symbol, the mystic sign 
Of a Draught unuttered, breathless Wine 
On the golden Goblet-sill. 

What Draught ineffable bubbles 

And stays at the Beaker's lip ? 
What deathless gods of the empyrean 
Heap high this Goblet, w^ith v^ild clash-paean 
Are the stars that fall from the empyrean 
The Wine that rains from their dazzle of Heaven 

And whirls to the Beaker's lip. 

They v^ring a Draught of divinity 
In the Cup that offers its bliss, 
It v^^aits with its golden Dew-lips, waits, — 
And the gods pass on through the twilight gates, 



72 LOTUS-LIFE. 



Through the Dawn and the Day, —those immortal 

mates 
That wed where the sun-blush burns at Gates 
Of the Dawn and the Day's long kiss. 

The full night decks its Banquet, 

The seven stars bubble again, 
Up — up to the Brim the star-swirls swim 
The topaz tide takes the Infinite rim, 
Heaven's Amontillado ? Pousse V Amour ? 
From my eyes lift the Veil that I capture, 
Ye gods ! Your long Draught's lit rapture 

The depths of your Golden Rain ! 



A UTUMN, 73 



Butumn* 



T N noble ranks the Maples stand 

And show, with sudden outstretched hand 
The gold they Ve coined through all the year. 



Through days of smiles on Summer's lip 
When gadding bees hum past, and sip 
And taste — now here, now there, and dip 
Their heads in every brimming cup 
The foolish flower-bells hold up ; — 

When butterflies had donned their coat 
To step abroad — and reel — and float 
Half-drunk, such liqueur in the throat, 
Eternal drops of Heaven's new wine, 
A taste unknown, a draught divine ! 
Immortal Bacchanals ! — 

When peal of forest-orchestras, 
The chant of all Earth's choristers, — 
Of Robin, Linnet, Oriole, Thrush 



74 LOTUS-LIFE. 



Poured forth a song, melodious gush 

Of v/elcome to the timid tread 

Th' Immortals try on sun-spread air, 

With all Heaven's largess '* Everywhere" !- 

The Maples watched th* enchanted tread 
And heard the song thrill overhead, 
And saw the sweets arise, and wed 
The lip of courting bumble-bee, — 
But steady worked, nor shared his glee. 

Through days when Winter, pale with fear, 

Gave warning hoarse : ** Obey the Seer 

Whose icy finger points the way 

To desolation, death, decay — 

Obey ! and strive not ! all things die "— 

The forest's moan prolonged the sigh. 

But lo ! the Maples' work unrolled 
Shows countless gems of burning gold. 
From heart to summit leaps the gleam 
Of ruddy torches' steady sheen, — 
A crimson torch to light the way 
Through shadows deep, through fading day 
When solemn voice shall lift and call 
From far-off mountains' storm-swept wall. 



A UTUMN. 75 



Soul ! when the summons comes to thee, 

Hast gold to show P hast light to lead 

Through glooms ? through dark ? through death's 

deep sea ? 
A Crimson torch ? lit by the Hand 
Of One who dared for thee to bleed, 
Through Calvary's work a way to lead 
And tread the darkness through to day, — 
Who stands at portal of th' Immortal Land 
To count thy gold, — thy passport o'er the Gates. 
Within — the taste unknown, the draught divine, 
Th* Immortal Cup — a seraph's Wine — 

God, the great Banquet, waits ! 



76 LOTUS-LIFE. 



T^HE fires in Heaven's great workshop-forge are lit, 

The East is radiant with the Eyes divine 
That look from out incarnate gates of toil 
Where once the blood rose deep in ebbing life 
Crimson as sun-dawn's wine new-poured for man. 
The stars turn pale with wonder and with awe 
At golden opportunities that Now 
To-day, while yet 't is day, God gives His world. 



MA V. 77 



T^HE blue-bells are blowing, 

Their chime is upgrowing, 

Hark I Hear ! 

Fuller, Clear ! 
The radiance runs 
As 't would outstrip the Suns 
In their song through the spheres 

That whirl each a note 

A God-voice afloat 
On blue tides of the skies 
Where the foam-wave-drift flies 
A tangled cloud-spray 

Heaven's Ocean of May ! 

The hawthorn 's a-bloom, 
The May-blossom's noon ! 

White, white, 

Silver-white 
Laughs the lane in its snow 
Where dawn's Primroses blow, 
Where the cuckoo calls loud 



78 LOTUS-LIFE. 



To the lark lost in cloud. 
King-daisies reach crowns 
To the buttercups, shy, 
Though with Star-glancing eye, — 
Crystal Crowns — for they 've passed 
Through the fierce strain at last, 
Shaken off the dull earth, 
And stand strong, — in full worth 
Of King's coins and their crowns. 
The hedge-rows nod " Yes,"— 
And bend low to bless. 
The lustrous white cloud 
Drops chrism ; and loud 
Crows chanticleer to Day 
The fair timid young Day 
Blushing deep at the gaze 
Of Creation. Love-lays 
Fair, rare, 
(Robin's air) 
Float from full hawthorn bough, — 
The full flood-tide, I trow— 
Earth's Ocean of May ! 



The moonlight *s a-bloom. 
Pale zenith of noon. 



MA V. 79 



Low, low, 

Breathe and blow 
White lilies of night 
On the foam-floor of light 
Embracing the rapt Earth. 
Blossoms lace the white breast 
Of the Earth rocked to rest. 

Deep, deep, 

Flower-bells sleep. 
Their drooped fragrance of face 
On the moon-tide's soft pace, 
Dim sigh, which the breeze 
Caresses — at ease. 
And lo ! at my side 
Where the full rose-lips hide, 
A face — in the sheen 
Of the moon's glow and gleam, 
Moon-rose of pale bliss 
That lifts — holds this kiss. 
The full tides of my soul 
Swing — heart-leap at the goal,— 
Iler white bosom's noon-day 

Love's Ocean of May ! 



8o LOTUS-LIFE. 



" Let Us Make Man in Our Image." 

T^HE Day had burned on Eden, Supreme Day 
When God swept through His Temple-Para- 
dise — 
Through aisles and pathways lengthening to the 

march 
The Infinite makes through His Chosen Shrine 
To seek His image, — man. 

The trees bow down, 
Low, stretching strong hands in adoration. 
Sacrifice. They flame with blood of even, 
And chant along the mystic Temple's air 
Refrain ecstatic, swept by breath of God 
The Spirit Who awakens where He will 
Voice-echoes of the rapture-rain that rims 
The Throne, whose pavement holds the God-gaze 

glassed. 
Met by the antiphons of angels. 



THE SHADOW. 8i 



God, 
Poet Supreme, heard echoes of His voice 
Along His vast achievement. Yea, thus now 
O poet-heart, where God doth tabernacle, 
For thee the Spirit's breath blows back the Veil, 
Granting thee visions of the vast Within, 
And words, — that Key laid in thy hand elect 
Opening for generations yet to come 
Doorways to Deity. 

The day dies slow 
As slowly moves the Majesty of God 
Through folded calms' delirium of light. 
What hint along this ripening glow of Eden 
Of the dread Creed : Man's crown a crown of 

blood? 
Of the dread Path : Alone through thorns to 

thrones ? 
The sun pours rubied wine to slake the thirst 
Of waiting flowers ; the hills' pure violet grows ; 
The streams, rose-shadowed in the crimson dusk, 
Where height on height the Lotos glass their 

charm, 
And reach, — as reaching to great Destiny — 
To capital, to crown of Karnak's might — 



82 LOTUS-LIFE. 



Roadway elect to roll to Sacrifice 
Beyond the swing of purpling incense-veil 
Wind-swept by breath of Amon-Ra enthroned, 
Stirred by strong yearning of the souls of men, — 
Silence their voice low — low — as God sweeps by 
And seeks his image, — man. 

The roses greet 
The great approach whose Gaze incarnadined 
Their faces fair forever ; a memory's flush 
Glancing again to the Great Dawn when God 
Moved through His dazzling solitude alone, 
When the bare vine entwining close the wood 
Poured sudden heart-drops— roses — bloom of blood 
Around the garment-hem of Deity, 
And lay, an ardent-beaded rosary 
Of adoration, ecstasy — in prayer. 

The twilight deepens, and the violet pales. 

One last flute-trill of thrush,— 

And all is still. 
The nightingale's wild throat 

Dies o'er the hill, 
Heart-throb that cradles low 



THE SHADOW. 83 



Its long love-rill 
As when the enchanted sea 

Lifts lay divine. 
Wave-reach of heaving note 

To moon's sublime, 
Then stills, to ecstasy — 

For to its breast 
The moon is drawn 

And swoons to rest. 

One Star, in wake of the great sun's red foam, 
Trembles, as summit-splendour to a Crown 
That shall be wrung from an abyss. 
The vines that globe the glow of moons and suns, 
Fruit-fragrant Pleiades of tangled light. 
Reach cups of wine as if God cried '* I thirst ! " 
The rock's gold-amber glooms, light-sparkles dip 
As God moves onward to His Omega. 



Along the crimsoning cross of Eden's paths 
Where deep the sun's blood pours departing life, 
A Shadow falls — Shadow of arms outheld. 
Steadfast the arms reach, yearn ; towards the red 
morn 



84 LOTUS-LIFE. 



When lo ! to man's embracements given, stands 
one 

Moulded from measure of his heart-beats, clothed 

In wine-dawn-light's blush, love that rocks pulses 

Deep and deepening, price of his manhood's veins. 

Tide that sets full unto its Fount— its Font ? 

The Shadow sweeps — and darkens— out — To This ? 

What Passion this, where Eden 's in eclipse? 

The gloom lies black on the great deeps of sun, 

The grapes are gall on the wind-shaken vine 

That reaches through the darkness, fleshless hands 

Towards the outline where the Shadow stains. 

The flower-blooms bend with myriad dusky gaze 
Down this dark Roadway to the Sunset's Veil. 
The Star along the fading Infinite 
Sparkles. It shakes its stricken splendour down 
From under thunder-brows of Heaven's amaze 
Whose lightning eyes probe the supreme abyss, 
The Shadow creeps along the reluctant gleam ; 
And fingers of God's acolytes illume 
An awful lettering along dome of space, — 
Star-alphabet of record : Victory 
Or vanquished through the blooms and blacks of 
Eden? 



THE SHADOW. 



A voice is heard arresting silence' breath : 

" Father, into Thy Hands I give to-night 

My breath, In Thee Thy new Creation sleeps." 

In hush of sudden calm, the Tree of Life 

Drips its full crimson foliage down the wood. 

The Shadow's arms reach through the vacant dark. 

Soul-magnet of His world, God draweth nigh, 

His gaze is nailed on man, this ! the God-goal ! 

— The Tree of Life looms awful o'er its Fruit — 

Dark, deepening, lengthening on the red of Even 

The SHADOW falls — face, forehead crowned in 

blood, 
God's Image ! — God ! Incarnate on a Cross. 



86 LOTUS-LIFE. 



1fn tbe Scales* 

" You really must excuse me from coming down (to heal 
and help you) ; the distance is too great. I have, moreover, 
more profitable clients nearer." 

A Physician's Letter. 

\ A/HY, wha*^ a mistake God did make ! 

Not to say to poor humans, awake 
In a misery's somewhat long Session : 
'* *T is too far to go. Such digression ! " 

He might have enjoyed all His Angels, 

And missed the long tediums' evangels 

Of the Thirty-Three Years. John and James 

Could have caught some more fish in their Thames. 

To be sure, we 'd have missed the Galatians^ 
And fed on, on our old heathen rations 
Devoid of Epistles. Ah, what a mistake ! , . . 
God weighed 'gainst "mistake" — "for Man's sake!'* 



THE SOCIAL ROCKING-HORSE. 87 



Hbe Social 1Rocktng^1bot0C» 

''^ r^ OOD people are sometimes so tiresome," 

I remember the comic plaint 
That even a good priest uttered, 
(A man who was nearly a Saint); 

** So crimped," with a stiff inner hot-tongs, 

So exact, and so plaited, such folds ! 
'T would take a play-bill (low) of Ocean 

To uncurl a hair's breadth of their souls. 

Have you seen them ? I glance round the table 
Where the Summer has stationed my face, 

It quivers : ecclesiastical whimper ? 
(I 'm alone in this very good place); 

Nay. This thought mounteth sudden, and seateth 

Itself without bound in my brain : 
*' You might as well ride a rocking-horse daily, 

And then ride, and then ride again. 



LOTUS'LIFE, 



*' You '11 surely get not one whiff further, 
You '11 only repeat the old creak, 

And the movement that cheats you a second 
Is no hint of intoxicate freak ; 

" No spring into lands new and radiant 

Where the pulses beat quicker— and faint — 

Nay, the gleam of the Rocking-Horse eyeball 
Is veneer of vermilion (paint)." 



THE POETS CUP. 89 



nPHE angel's wing-sweep o'er the blue 

Drinks, unaware, the chalice-infinites, 
His gaze on distance — view on view 
Expanding in soul-ardour's light to heights. 

Bard, in thy moments' lure that lift 

Where stars are stairways, only, in thy climb, 
Heaven's meteors fall before veil-lift 

Of vision — th' Ideal ! poets rhyme. 



90 LOTUS-LIFE. 



Zhc fbome of tbe IRoae* 

/\ LITTLE rose-tree withered 
On Judah's hot plains, bare, 
The Christian feet passed up and down 
And took no heed of rose-tree's brown, 
The sun laughed long, winds piped their song, 
The little rose-tree withered. 

A traveller on earth's barren 

I found one pure sweet bloom, 
The soft South wind stayed to caress, 
The reddening sun-beams bent to bless ; 
Deep, where old Nilus brims divine 
My little rose-tree blushed, — a wine 
That lifts its lips up — up to mine 

A Traveller on earth's barren. 



THE WORD WAS GOD. 91 



A CROSS the unfolding Firmament 

God rolled His cry : 
LET THERE BE LIGHT,— to see My Face 
Star-systems sweep into that Word's 
White orbit-tides of life and lay, 
Held, holding on the enchanted Way, 
Black chasms of Heaven melt into day : 
GOD thrills across the Firmament, — 
LET THERE BE LIGHT,— to see My Face I 
Yearning of Deity ! 



LOTUS-LIFE. 



IVyilDNIGHT. The stars crowd into spaces vast 
Beyond our vision : lamps, fulled, that swing 

slow, 
Steadying flame-gaze expectant on Heaven's 

dome. — 
An awful hush where meteor-worlds attend. — 
What whitening glory widens into light, 
Tracked Way of Light, — a Chariot's burning 

wheels 
From Alpha to Omega of high Heaven ? 
A stellar dust whirls into pathless space. 
White mist of worlds that break to being's height, 
And span the splendour with their infinite, 
The glittering tracks of Deity's dark-bright, 
For the Ineffable treads the Star-maze — 
Of Constellations' tropics, thrilled with Him 
Whose Eye is compass and whose Hand is rein 
O'er- the blue vault of the Sun-Systems' swirl 
Recording aeons in their pulsing path. 
And sends his plunging Meteors' flame-word 
To say to mortal man, the child of Time, 
" 'T is God the Timeless ! to thy knees to-night." 



THE WORD SUPREME. 93 



trbe MorD Supreme* 

To L. M. S. 

C INCE first the Ancient Wisdom on the banks 

Of sacred Nile, wealth of a nation's heart, 
Stationed a god Instructor of the Art, 
Art which all other gift to man outranks, 
Taught first hy Thoth on those old Nilus-banks 
Letters, to groove the thoughts of men for aye 
In colours deep as hieroglyphic dye 
On Pyramids' immortal ; what hot ranks 
Of words and words burn from a burdened world ! 
God held the stylus^ God of gods, at height, — 
The summit splendour of His years, when swirled 
The nations' faces 'neath His gaze : stream-light 
To sift the Word which the Supreme should be : 
FORGIVENESS.— Look ! writ in red Calvary. 



94 LOTUS-LIFE. 



"T^HE Stars glance through the wrecks of ruin'd arch 
Where lifts the Coliseum's curve of giant-wall, 

Glances of Saints who won the breathless march 

To azure heights round God from this blood-whirl 
of Hall. 

They gaze in fixed Felicity while the world's Won- 
ders fall. 

Rome, 1891. 



THE MISSION A RVS S TOR Y, g'^ 



Suggested by the Tapestry Painting by Mrs. H. W. Dart, 

N. Y., from the Picture T/ie Missionary's Story ^ by 

T. G. Vibert. 

YOU know the Picture ? Cardinals five 

In Council — in the Vatican, 
The hour — at three o'clock, I think, 

When God showed something unto man 

Upon a Cross. The Scenery hangs 

Above the heads of Cardinals two 
Who lounge in graceful, world-ease pose 

Upon a sofa, where their hue 

Is burn of blood, the ne'gligd 

Of Fathers in the Faith, — 
Christ's livery lapped in luxury — 

** Becoming !" so the Tourist saith. 

The Hue has dropped from the great glare 
Above their heads ? Reflected flame, 

To light the Way their hearts should drip 

For man ? Nay, '* Eminence" means Fame ! 



q6 LOTUS-LIFE. 



" In Council," said I ? No, the hour 

Is shorn of thought's great agony, 
The hour is pleasant, parlance fair, 

Yet hardly fair, — though fringed with " Tea." 

The dainty table (you know how, 

Mesdames) smokes fragrant with the urn 

At one side of the brilliant room, 
Presided o'er— (he will not turn 

To hear my verse, perhaps too strong 

In poet-priest's avoirdupois^ 
A thought too wide for Rome's rich throng) — 

I mean the Cardinal, of course. 

He holds in plump hand (manicured ?) 

The daintiest bit for hungry lips, 
Destined for dogs, dogs only dare 

To perch so near, — near Cardinal's lips ; 

The Favourite 's just about to snap 
At cultured biscuit, held on high — 

A small round wafer — semblance dread 
Of something on an altar nigh 



THE MISSION A RY' S S TOR \ \ 97 

That Peter feeds unto the flock 

Crowding with soul-moan to the rail 

Of Chancel incensed ; does he deal 
Immortal Food ? — the dog's wail 

Is picturesque, His Eminence smiles — 

Again the wafer lifts on high, 
High as my lord's large bosom (not as large 

As Abraham's where poor beggars lie) ; 

He does not even glance, my lord, 

Across the room of dazzling hue 
Where sits, beneath the Calvary red. 

And facing full mes seigneurs two-— 

A monk in worn and tattered gown, 
With travel-stains on bleeding feet,~- 

Pale, thirsty, sick to death for One, 

Great God ! Whose heart inspired this heat 

Of Love that burned and burned for man 
In distant lands, o'er smiling seas. 

Through fragrant blooms — A Paradise — 
But sought not, loved not wealth nor ease, 
7 



98 LOTUS-LIFE. 



Nor home — nor Love as man knows love, 
(Yea, even Cardinals, so I Ve heard, 

Pardon the slight digression here, 

You '11 surely hear it, on ** good word " ) ; 

But shepherded Christ's distant flock 

With hands that poured Christ-radiance in : 

The human heart -blood ; men, methinks 
That 's Deity aflame in him 

The poor, the scorned, the man 

Who faces full the Man of men 
Above his head, and does not shrink 

Save vi^ith sick shudder now and then 

In the poor " habit " rent and torn,— 
Quite vis-a-vis of messieurs^ dress 

Whose " Red " is such a charming fit ! 
The Tailor to His Holiness 

Did that. And worked therein a thread 
By which to climb — Oh, higher much 

Than pictured Calvary up there, 

To ! (we must not hint of it o'er much). 



THE MISSION A R Y'S S TOR V. gg 

The monk shows wounds in hands and feet, 
His voice thrills power through the room, — 

One lofty lordling perks his glass, 
(I think he '11 see a little, soon). 

Indeed, 't is very sad to bore 

Such gentlemen. The sofa's two 

Yawn covertly. Such graceful pose ! 
It ruffles not whate'er you do. 

Ah ! there 's a message from the Pope ! 

'Tis surely more important, quite. 
To break His Holiness* strong seal — 

Than prove yourself a '* holy " height 

By aiding this poor lowly man 

Whose eyes are closed, as closed the gaze 
Beneath God-eyelids — just at 3 o'clock — 

The Lids will lift — a Day of days — 

You '11 face them, gentlemen, I think,— 
But ** make the best of Time," I urge, — 

You '11 certainly display your breed 

By urging this storm-shattered ' ' serge " 



LOTUS-LIFE. 



To drink ? — Nay, start not, I but mean 
Of afternoon mild, mellow Tea, 

A charming potion — dogs drink — See ! 
The Favourite's nose at my lord's knee I 



The " Red " burns, blooms throughout the Room,- 

That laugh of Cardinals is fine- 
Then, twilight's dark slowly blots down 

The brilliance of the scarlet wine ; 

The monk is gone — the one stain there ! 

A gentle rustle, — papers strew 
The lap of Cardinal Bonaparte 

Whose Cardinal-Campaign is rare- 
Rare as the tactics of his Kin 

Who fished five crowns into his net, 
The Cardinal 's more modest — See ! 

His modest schemes are only set 

For Three bright circles, very small,— 

Too small to make a fuss about— 
The modus operandi up 

Tiaras ? — Ask the lords about ! 



THE MISSIONARY'S STORY. 



The Cardinals' campaign begins — 
Campaign ? I quite forgot the " h " — 

C-h-a-7)i — ? S-h-a-m — ? 

No matter ! in foam-wine C-h — ! (hush-sh-sh) 



Silence in Heaven ! deep as the Vatican. 

The Angels rim the Judgment-Seat 
In long ascending light that climbs and burns, 
Voice-hushed — wings folded close to feet. 

Their God-given flight is finished now for man, 
Their burning gaze bends but One way 

Upon One Face the summons one-by-one 
Soul-presences to face this Day. 

Silence in Heaven ! no sound is heard but one,— 
Wine-drip from wounds and wounds that see 

Again, a dazzle in each awful eye — 
Halo, I find, round Calvary ; 

And round the Face Whose eyelids slowly lift 
On this pale Dawn — just Three, the hour. 

The old world-timepiece, gnarling, slowly struck — 
And Time-was-not. But Silence. And a Power 



LOTUS^LIFE. 



That thrills the presences that rise and rise 

Around the Judgment-Seat, hoary 
With long, and long eternities of light — 

Silence the horror ! hear the Story ! 

For through the hush that falls as night on seas 
When moon's pale bands of light burn hoary, 

A Face looms up. Look ! whiter than whitening 
seas, — 
A Missionary tells HIS Story ; 

The Missionary with the awful White, 

World-travel, soul-travail for man 
From Bethlehem to Golgotha. That 's all ? 

From Bethlehem to the Vatican ! 

The Room within? Yes, quite a luxury. 

Splendours above the Vatican, — 
The Creed said so, — and Cardinals held to Creeds ; 

*' Life endless," — that 's a dazzle, man, 

Or doom, as Christ (present Narrator) choose. 

Nay, not so, soul ! thyself chose (well ?) 
Carved thy rough roadway up to his God-Heart 

Or — smooth road's dip, down to thy Hell ! 



THE MISSION A R V'S S TOR V. 103 

He speaks ! The Missionary holds all worlds 

In silence deep as Dawning's seed 
When His Creative Voice rolled — it was Light 

Or Darkness, as His Voice decreed. 

The Creed said so — before the Timepiece struck— 

And Cardinals fastened every shred 
Of Creeds and Councils on the Faithfuls' Faith, 

Now, Cardinals five ! Hear the Voice ! Dread, 

** I hungered." God! Thou mentionest first of all 
Thy Sacrament's Great Sign — the Bread, 

The Wine to hungry, grieving, weary souls,— 
The Wafer Thy Heart broke to feed 

Forth Food Divine to every full demand. 

Hungry Thyself in Thine, who gave 
To man upon his Golgotha? ** Who gave ?" 

The hush — and then — pulse=throb — * ' Who 
gave ? " 

The Voice rings round the circle vast of worlds. 
The Scarlet flame leaps up, and clothes 

Five brows with shame, as deep the Christ^Wounds 
leap 
In light, and show what Cardinals chose. 



I04 LOTUS-LIFE. 



The Light runs radiance round one humble face 
That leans so near the throne, and kneels 

With thankful joy, grasping, with dripping tears 
The rim of Christ's dyed Garment's seals ; 

Tears of a prostrate gratitude, he knows 

He ministered to the Great Love 
Among all sons of men, and quenched the thirst 

Of Calvary when he held, above 

His life, his love for man, yea, unto blood — 
The wounds are wide in the poor hand 

That met no palm outstretched to give, — 
What matter ! Christ now holds his hand, 

'' I thirsted." The Voice drops slow— as slowly 

God's tidaLwave on Calvary 
When the Great Sea moved darkly to the dark. 

The Red Sea whence world-Pharaohs flee. 

*' Who gave? " The Shadow on the Face, darkens, 
The Dark moves on— and on— it stays 

Upon Five faces known to Vatican, — 

'T is true that man's own conscience flays. 



THE MISSIONARYS' STORY. 105 



** But Peter — Vatican decrees — what not ? 

Trent Council — something — said Wine 
Must not be given at Altars though it hold 

Christ's blood — (a taste, quite, of Divine 

Revealments) but it shall not be handed 
To aught but to the Priestcraft ; Souls 

That thirst for God must only have the half, 
We, all." What did ye with It, Souls 

Of Priests ? Ye drank, drank God in Sacrament, 
Gave Him again to men upon their knees ? 

Christ suddenly remembers — yes — 
An afternoon of cultured Cardinals* ease ; 

Remembers the Great Memory's Feast, Wine 
On the long Night of red Gethsemane, 

Remembers how He said, the words 

" ALL drink o/IT.'* World built in agony. 

He speaks again, to Cardinals, to all 
The lip=curled Rich to those they call 

Sisters of Mercy — less (than that) full oft, 
Believe me, I have seen their Hall — 



io6 LOrUS-LIFE. 



"Naked"; ''Sick"; "Stranger"; "Wearied" 
in the Race 

That must be run, whose Vestibule 
The voice of Angels, Angels, — God the Goal — 

'T was very different in the Convent Rule ; 

He Speaks I 

To Feminine Elect (?) Who frowned 

And froze Christ-ardours in the soul 

That came with hope of crown for goal,* 

Was cautioned — yea, though almost drowned 

In White Cap's Convent froth—" Be thou content 

with Cap." 
What pity Paul of Tarsus knew no better 
Ranting of the Eternal Target in his Letter ! 
('T was, verily, so still behind the bar 
Where Feminine-Elected-Laymen jar 
I vow they penned some second smart Epistles 
To Corinth ruins, — smart with smarting thistles). 
Breasts, so well-laundried, that they cracked 
Hearts (not their own, most sure !) hearts whacked 
With bitterer blow than words ere lend ! 

* The wreath of flowers presented to a '' Sister " on her 
" Profession." 



THE MI SSI ON A R Y'S S TOR Y. 107 

Poor ardent heart ! tliat on the laundried bosom 

thought to bend ! 
Now God be praised ! that the poor ardent soul 
Who came with hungry Christ-flame towards one 

goal, 
Swam hard for life through this fierce Polar ice, 
As fast as any '* untrained " Convent mice, 
Floated to Tropic Seas of heat and balm and bliss 
Where Love is not '* a wrong and ruin," Dames, 

(erase the ' ' es ") 
But raptured God-revealments in one kiss ! 

He Speaks I 

To women who swept '* Habits " on sick floors. 
Once, only, swept their ** Habits "* on the floor 
Where the poor ardent soul endured ("draughts 

from the door?") 
The ardent soul sunk helpless in their service, — 
" I really think she is a little nervous." 
** Nervous ? " Great God ! Thine eyes did pierce 

right through 
Where burning blindness swathed those eyes so 

true, 

* A '' Sister's " gown. 



io8 LOTUS-LIFE. 



So grand in Love, so patient then 'neath wrong 
So hideous 't will make a Demon's song. 
"A little nervous ! " Change your " Habit," Sister, 
For God's flame-eyes gaze, burn in, till they blister 
Thy soul seared through with stamped-out feeling, — 
Thy woman-soul ! Shame ! Scorch of shame past 
healing. 

He Speaks / 

To lip-curled Rich, from whom their own of kin 
Nursed on one heart, one mother's breast 

Of Love (which God loved well enough to rock 
His Son Incarnate into rest) 

Asked a poor alms, '* only a loan, dear kin, 

To lift o*er grinding agonies ; 
God put His Poet-arrows in unconscious hand 

And bade me wing His messages 

To men. What fault of mine ? I but obeyed 
The Voice that portions out its Heaven, 

Yea, most in attic atmosphere — the Poet's home — 
Radianced with full yEgean. 

But days will darken when e'en Attic Salt 
Is not. Ye, little more than kin, 



THE MISSION A RV'S S TOR V. 109 



Be more than kind ! A loan in God's Name lend ! 
He gave — not lent — threw red coins in 

The wild upreaching hands of needy worlds 
That leaned from o'er the Ages' rim, 

Stretching to Calvary's largess for the coin 

That dropped — dropped — dropped — until the 
dim 

And distanced suns of Heaven's firmament 
Shuddered with shame, and blotted out 

Their gold before the Expansion of God's Love 
Which still — still — still poured vintage out, 

Red coinage, when the Eclipse of Golgotha 

Lay like a face-cloth on earth's face, 
And hid the Hands— the Face — the Heart. Along 
the Dark 

Was heard but dropping from that Face 

Alone, and minting coin, in Death-Sweat deep 
For man. Till the Great Coin ran white, 

Thrilled, thinned to finest issue, crystal-pale- 
Stream that flows down from deathless height 



LOTUS-LIFE. 



Of the Great Throne of God and of the Lamb. 

That 's generosity ! my kin ! 
I ask but a poor loan in Name of Him. 

Your soul-need ? Triune Gold poured in." 

Ah ! a few pence were tossed to the '' fourth floor " 

(Almost as high as Calvary) — 
*T was all that '*he" could spare in the Great 
Race 

For Gold — " there is so much to see ; 

We give -^-Q of all to the Almighty," 

I tremble to record the word, 
Counts the Almighty one tenth as good as he 

Then, — Look ! has the Almighty heard ? 

** Who gave? " The Shadow on the Face, darkens, 
The Dark moves on — the twilight-seas 

Blot down the Scarlet wine of Vatican, — ■ 
Of Cardinals, Convents, Cruelties. 

Through pillared fire of Calvary once more seen 
Of men ; Through the Great Cloud of Seven 

Light-mists, the awful flame-edged Spirit's Fire 
Of morning watch — just Three in Heaven — 



THE MISSIONARY'S STORY. 



The Eyes uplift on Pharaohs, Pharisees, 
A Gaze with God's dim ages hoary — 

There 's only heard the Red Sea's cry — 
The Missionary 's told His Story. 



THE END, 



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